1 800 SPARKLE STICK
by cherieblossum
Summary: Jaded Bella Swan, is bored out of her mind working at a call center for Cullen Hotels. She decides to find entertainment in torturing her new trainee. What will happen when she finds out that he is a Cullen himself? AU/AH
1. A-New-Start

**A/N: So this is my first full length fic **** I'm posting to day because it is my friend (and fave author) TailoredDream's birthday! She is on twitter so go say happy birthday.**

**Thank you to my beta mabarberella who is beyond amazing and improved my writing so much in just one chapter. **

**Thanks to the wifey revelrae. Thanks to all my h00rs especially my pre-readers sadtomatoFF, duckynoel, jslpisces and monamour (get better soon bb, I need your positive energy and for you to have better internet access!). **

**I don't own Twilight, I do however own...(checking student debt)…absolutely nothing…not this computer, not this couch, not even a pen…stupid needed education! Oh well, Enjoy!**

**1-A-New-Start**

**BPOV**

* * *

_**BEEP BEEP ~**_

"Good evening and thank you for calling Cullen International Resorts. My name is Bella. How may I assist you?" Eighty-two. That is the approximate number of times I say that exact line or some variation of it, every day.

"_Yes, I wanted to book a hotel room."_

"Certainly. City and state?" Yes, I have to ask the state. Do you know there are twenty-three Fairviews, twenty Springfields, and sixteen Winchesters in the United States alone? Plus, God forbid I not realize that all the Cincinnati airports are actually in Kentucky and end up with a twenty minute geography lecture from granny-pants on the phone. Seriously, people actually go to Kentucky? Willingly? Like I should talk. I live in Forks, Washington, a.k.a the edge of nowhere.

"_Atlanta, Georgia."_

I quickly pull up a list of hotels in the Atlanta area. "Alright, so what we have available are The Cullen Eclipse Downtown on west Peachtree, a Breaking Dawn in Midtown on 14th St. and a Twilight..."

"_Oh my, wait a minute dear; did you want to know where I wanted to go or where I live? Because I live in Atlanta, but I want to go to Ft. Lauderdale."_

I hit the mute button. "Why the fuck would I care where you live lady?" I whisper to Mike across the cubicle wall.

"_Excuse me?! What did you say?"_ I apparently also whispered this to the lady on the phone.

_**~ CLICK ~**_

Fuck. My. Life. And this shitty non-functional Cullen equipment. James is going to pull my ass into the office for that one for sure.

"SWAN!"

Yup, nine minutes into my shift and I already have a mandatory impromptu disciplinary meeting. Whatever. I think it's a new record for me, and I strive for excellence.

I grudgingly change the status of my soft phone on my computer to Aux 5, the code for manager meeting. It took me forever to figure out that I could operate everything on the computer through a soft phone rather than fumbling with the keys of the hard phone sitting on my desk.

I hear the soft snickering of my fellow customer care service specialist assholes – I mean, associates – as I exit down the row of cubicles. I'm pretty sure the carefully tossed paper plane aimed at my head is the one Jessica has been working on through her last five calls. She'll get hers when I'm done feigning remorse to James for my 'unsatisfactory behaviour'.

As I seat myself on the couch across from the manager's office, I can see Maggie, our loveable, loud, and inevitably slightly intoxicated operations manager in her office waving at me. She loves everyone here, and tells us all, all the time. I shake my head, a small giggle escaping my lips as I wave back to her.

"Alright Swan, in you go." James' trademark creepy smirk takes up most of his face as he motions for me to enter his office.

I can see he's been hard at work; the scores of last night's baseball game flash across the plasma TV mounted on the wall. James starts spewing company spiel about proper guest management and appropriate call verbiage, but I'd tuned him out at "have a seat."

It's not that I don't find what James is saying riveting; I'm sure in his mind it is. I just can't focus on what he's saying. It's not even because of that slimy feeling I have to fight off every time he's near me or that his eyes never seem to quite make it up to mine. No, what has my undivided attention is the commercial that is now playing on the plasma. Flashes of beaches with palm trees, soft flowing canopy beds and delicious gourmet meals being served flood the screen. Then the face of a man that I fear will haunt me for the rest of my life appears.

Paul Madison, CEO and the face of Madison Worldwide Hotels smiles out from the screen, welcoming everyone to be his guest. I like to think of him more fondly as my totally scummy, revolting, philandering prick of an ex-fiancée. Ugh now I have to actually listen to what James is saying so that I can clear my head, which is quickly becoming cluttered with images of Paul with that whore.

"So Bella, are we clear on the proper usage of the mute button or do I need to write up an official report on you?" James brings me out of my musings.

"Yup, sure, whatever," I say as make an obvious duck of my head to revert James' attention up to my eyes. "So can I start break now?" Anything to get off those phones early.

"Sure," he says as he fills out my manager slip with the extended break time on it. "Actually Bella, why don't you and I knock off early, head on down to Clearwater's, and start our weekend together?" Oh gross, he actually even licked his lips as his eyes traveled south again. This time I physically move his face to line up with mine. "Never gonna happen bubs, but thanks for the extra break time." I squeeze his chin extra hard and then grab the slip from his hand and skip off towards the break room.

When I enter the break room Jessica is perched on the edge of the large black leather couch nervously glancing at the door every five seconds. Her face explodes into a grin when she sees me.

"Hey Jess, and why may I ask are you in the break room?" I ask, her eyes still focused on the door. I grab my Rainbow Brite lunch box from the fridge and pour some tea from the vending machine dispenser before sitting down on the couch.

"Oooooh Bella, haven't you heard about the super juicy new man meat that has found its way into the new training class?" She is squealing and practically vibrating. If Mr. Man-Meat didn't know about her lust-filled crush before, he certainly just heard her.

"Shhhh, Jess, their classroom is located just down the hall." I take a peek at the door before I continue. "Besides, I thought the only man-wich you were interested in was our loveable Mikey-Mike." This earns me a swift kick to the shin.

"Bella, did you tell him? Because I swear to god if you did..." Her face instantly scrunches up and she's looking a little constipated.

"Whoa Jess, Frankie says relax! No I didn't say anything; you do a well enough job of showcasing the obvious yourself with the way you stutter and bat your eyelashes every time you are around him."

"Ugh Bellie-Bells, believe you me, the second I saw new-recruit boy I was like 'Mike-Schmike!' Well, maybe not, but I certainly wouldn't mind if I was picked to be the new guy's peer trainer." She waggles her eyebrows at me.

"Anyway, apparently he was in some training class in Seattle, but-"

I interrupt her "Jess, there is no call centre in Seattle."

"Bella, seriously? Who cares? Point is, the hottie is here now and James is assigning the class's partners as we speak." She's back to vibrating again.

Great, just what I need. To be hooked up with some punk who has relied on his good looks most of his life and thus never developed any acceptable level of intelligence or modicum of personality.

I sink into the leather seats of the couch, lay my head back and close my eyes, thanking whatever diety happens to be up there that management finally replaced those disgusting, dirt-coloured, disease-infested excuses for couches last week. At least these can be wiped down when some of the disgusting, dirt-coloured, disease-infested excuses for employees take up semi-permanent residence on them.

"SWAN!"

Ugh. "If I can't see you, you can't see me. If I can't see you, you can't see me." I repeat this mantra in a low whisper, convincing myself that this will make James disappear.

He doesn't. Stupid, crappy, non-functioning invisible powers. I don't even open my eyes even though he has walked so close to me that I can feel his legs touching my knees as he stands in front of me.

"I've assigned a little training buddy for you, Isabella," I can hear his smirk as he speaks to me.

"That's fucking fantastic, Fido," I reply in an exasperated tone.

"You bet it is, picked out a real winner just for you," his smirk has turned into a full on giddy grin. "Betcha you're wishin' you'd taken me up on that drink now eh?" I don't even have to open my eyes to know where his are focused.

I cross my arms over my chest and sigh in response, "James, I would buddy-jack every damn day before I would even have juice boxes in the lunch room with you."

"One day, my little Swan, one day," he laughs to himself as he walks out of the lunch room. I actually shudder at the thought of that. I slowly allow myself to drift back into daydreaming now that I'm alone. You know you hate your job when you are daydreaming of being at home refining your thesis on media conglomerates and the 'McDonaldization' of American media.

I've been enjoying my happy place for almost an hour when I'm interrupted and sucked back into hell.

"SWAN"

I open up my left eye in a small squint shifting my sight towards the lunchroom doors. I see James standing there with a clipboard. He actually looks annoyed but in a weird way. I quickly glance at my iphone: nope, I still have two minutes left on my break so I ignore him.

"Here's your buddy-jack: Edward. Play nice," I've closed my eyes again by the time he mentions buddy-jack. I feel the couch move as someone runs into the side, and I hear a faint groan. The couch then shifts beside me. That must be Eddie and Eddie must be blind because this side of the room has a couch and a TV, so how the hell do you run into the only piece of furniture in front of you?

"Hey," I mutter, eyes still shut. I wait for a response. Okay, so Eddie must be blind _and _deaf.

"Yo, you talk?" I tilt my head towards him but keep my eyes closed so that I resist showing him a facial expression letting him know just how annoyed he's already made me.

"Uh..."

"Seriously you have to think about that?" This is going to be a long week, especially if Eddie here can't get it together to form a full sentence and answer a call.

"N..No. I...uh...Ya, I can...um...hey," he finally stammers out.

The Rhodes Scholar and I enjoy a few more minutes of awkward silence before he clears his throat. "Uh, are we supposed to just sit out here?"

"You've got a better plan there, Eddie?" Seriously I could be asleep right now. I wish he would go back to being mute.

"Well, I was told that we were supposed to be answering calls, and I just..."

I cut him off, "Dude, simmer, I'm on break, therefore you, my little buddy, are on break too."

"Well, James said you were on break but that it was ending in two minutes, and then,"

"What are you dude, the aux 9 Nazi?" I sit up to give him my best bitch face but I'm met with an unexpected sight. This has to be the guy Jessica is salivating over. This kid is prettier than any of those supermodels gracing the covers of the magazines Jane whines for me to bring to her every Monday.

I close my mouth to ensure no embarrassing drooling occurs. I literally shake my head to clear myself from his obvious dazzling super powers. I've fallen for that 'I'm so gorgeous I can stun you with one glance' shit before. Never again. Not gonna work, pretty-boy.

"Alright, fine, let's go teacher's pet," I say as I get up off the couch and snap my fingers at him to follow me. "Let me guess you won 'star of the class'?"

"Oh, we haven't voted yet," he mutters.

I look at him incredulously for actually answering the rhetorical, but clearly not-so-obvious, slam.

"Well Eddie, are you ready to buddy-jack?" I might as well get back on the phones as I don't want any more one-on-one time with James tonight.

"Uh...Wh...You..B..b...buddy-what?" Eddie is going to seriously have to reign in this stuttering problem if he actually expects to answer a call. And now, now I'm going to play with him a little bit, just 'cause I can.

"Yup. We have a long, hard night of buddy-jacking ahead of us. Don't worry virgin-boy, we'll start off slow and gentle until I get you all warmed up." I gently pat his knee and he jumps and turns red. Geez, this kid must be really nervous about talking to strangers on the phone.

"Seriously yo, simmer down. We get unlimited Aux 9 time. If you get nervous and blow your load early, we will just take a break and talk about it. It's okay; it's a perfectly normal thing, especially for virgins." I try to reassure him but his expression is a mixture of confused, embarrassed, offended, and like someone just described his prom night.

"Aux 9," I continue. "You know the call-blocker code? Unpaid time off the phone? It allows you to get up, stretch, take a bathroom break, a smoke break, for some of the guys who work here a _personal break_, if you catch my drift." I waggle my eyebrows with appropriate hand gestures, at my last insinuation trying to get Eddie to lighten up just a smidge. "We are normally only allowed eight percent of our time in AUX 9, but virgins need extra TLC."

He shakes his head and comes out of his sputtering daze, "I'm not a virgin. If anyone is going to be jacking someone off around here, it's..." I cut him off before he can go any further with a 'talk to the hand' gesture.

"Dude," I let out in an exasperated sigh. "Buddy-jacking is a professional customer care service specialist term. What on earth did you think I was talking about?" I feign a horrified look and cross my arms in front of me, tapping my foot as he gets more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Revelling in his discomfort, I wink at him just for fun, wondering if he'll ever to ease up. With a resigned sigh, I nod my head towards the floor, gesturing that we should get going.

As we make our way out of the lunch room and enter the floor I turn to my new buddy. "Hey, you got all your stuff? Headset? Nameplate? Res book?" I suddenly feel like I'm sending a five-year old off to their first day of school.

He looks down at his arms, "Uh yeah, ready to go."

"Alright superstar, let's go." I lead him back to the second-to-last row of cubicles. As we turn to make our way down my row and toward my pod at the end, I catch a glimpse of Jessica's face. Her eyes have practically popped out of her head and her jaw is virtually on the floor.

"Hey guys, this is my buddy for the week, Eddie," I introduce him to the row, and yes, derive a small amount of smug pleasure from the brief stares of jealousy from Jess, Rachel, Lauren, Kim and Stefan. Hmmm…Stefan. I file that last one away for an in-depth analysis at a later time, remembering how Stefan didn't put up much of a stink when we forced him to be the fifth Spice Girl last Halloween.

I decide to make quick introductions for my jealous team: "Eddie this is Jess, Rachel, Lauren, Kim and Stefan."

"It's actually Edward"

"Hmm?" I stare at him.

"My name, it's Edward. No one calls me Eddie," he indignantly states.

"Well, now someone does." I turn and walk away.

I reach my station and shove my chair towards Eddie and grab the chair from the empty pod next door for myself. I sit down, grab my headset, and turn towards Edward. He's just standing there, staring at me. I roll my eyes. "Simon says sit."

As he fumbles to sit and get his stuff set up and slip on his name plate, I start logging back into the reservation systems and the soft phone. We spend half of our break time logging in and out of this damn crap.

As I adjust the brightness of my monitor I flinch as an electric shock zaps my forearm. I look down and see Edward's hand resting on my arm, his other hand on the computer tower. I glare at him.

"Wow, did you feel that?" he asks with a look of wonderment on his face.

"Yes, jerk. That's what happens when you have your headset on and then you touch the monitor and the tower at the same time. You'll be feeling more than a just a shock if you do that again, asshole."

"Oh, sorry," he says, looking appropriately chastised.

"S'okay," I grumble. "Not really your fault. There should be a chapter included in the training class about this craptastic equipment we are forced to use. The blame really lies in those whose name is at the top of my equally craptastic pay check every other week; fucking Cullens prance around the world representing this glamorous hotel chain, while we wallow in this hole with the daily fear that we'll be electrocuted by our 'industry standard' barely-functional equipment."

I notice his brow furrowing slightly as I tell him this. I guess the week he's spent here hasn't made him disgruntled towards the royal Cullen family yet, unlike me, who has a Cullen family picture on my dart board at home. I've been searching for one that includes the snot-nosed trust fund kids. I've found the blond Amazon one; she's in the tabloids every week, but the others seem to keep themselves out of the public eye. No amount of googling has allowed me the pleasure of finding what the others do or look like, so, unfortunately, they've not made it to the honorary spot on my dart board collage as of yet.

As I sit here, honouring my internal musings and avoiding doing any actual work, Edward just stands there, looking at me, expecting me to direct him.

I spot James turning to head down our aisle. I immediately busy myself checking random things on my phone and my monitor. "Hey, keep those hands visible and folded in your lap buddy, I've experienced enough bodily harm for one day today," I whisper to Edward.

James has a tag-a-long with him, another newborn, as we call them. They are all much like Eddie here: eager to please. The rest of us are constantly reminded by management how strong the newborns are and how we should constantly try to incorporate that same enthusiasm into our jobs.

This particular newbie would clearly make for a less than desirable buddy-jack. In fact, I can smell his body odour wafting in our direction as soon as the wind from the fan breezes by him. I turn towards them with a relaxed smile on my face. Pretty boy here may be lacking in the brains department but he clearly makes up for it with his lovely aesthetic and impeccable hygiene, and that I can more than live with.

Watching the scene unravel is actually quite entertaining. A look of terror reigns on everyone's face at the thought of being paired up with this guy for a whole week. I almost let a giggle escape when I realize who this newbie resembles. He's the spitting image of the comic bookstore guy from '_The Simpsons_'.

Jessica's eyes widen to the point where I think they may pop out of their sockets as James comes to a stop in front of her. He doesn't even glance up as he makes a checkmark on his clipboard. "Ms. Stanley…" He only started calling her by her last name once their "deep" love affair of two and half weeks ended a few months ago. "This is Peter, your buddy-jack. I'm sure you two will be the best of friends by the week's end. Petie here didn't quite catch on as fast as the rest of the class, so you guys might even get two weeks together." James now looks at her with the sweetest smile; it makes me sick to my stomach.

"I...uh...but...wouldn't Bella be a better choice? I mean she has like way, way better stats and verbiage than I do. And, um…earlier, I kinda felt a good vibe between me and Edward," she pauses to give Eddie a flirtatious wink and smack her gum a few times. "And you know how important that is in the jacker/jackee relationship, and I just don't..."

I sneak a look at Edward who winces then looks up, allowing us to share a knowing smile at his earlier naiveté with call centre lingo. I hear a familiar sputtering but this time it is coming from Peter whose eyes are popping out of his head. I could have sworn call center terms were day one material in training.

"James you're the moron" Mike says standing up for Jessica. Eddie and Pete's mouths drop at Mike's less than subtle insult to James.

"What did you call me Mr. Newton?" James sneers at him.

"Why James I am just informing the newbies here that you are the MORON. The Manager Of Reservations on the floor tonight. The MOR-on." Mike enunciates the last word as if he's speaking to a toddler. Mike then gives James a double thumbs up just to rub it in that little bit more.

The group's snickering quickly turns into full on laughter.

James is already walking away, not listening as he makes his way back to the 'moron' desk, where he belongs. Just as he reaches the end of the aisle, he yells out "Swan, you better be back online in under fifteen minutes or I'm giving you an automatic adherence."

I stick my tongue out at him. I already have one adherence on my file for leaving my phone in Aux 9 while arguing with him a few weeks ago when he was being completely unreasonable, punishing Jess for something that was not her fault. Then I argued with him for giving me the adherence, as yelling at him for 10 minutes was clearly not over my allotted 8 percent. He threatened another one for that. If I end up with three, I'm a goner, for sure.

Edward looks at me expectantly.

"What?" I stare back. "You heard what he said. We get a fifteen minute break."

"I really don't think that is exactly what he meant." He's already questioning handing over his virginity and my buddy-jacking capabilities.

I grab my grocery store smut magazine and I give him my best bitch face, effectively shutting him up.

I take a quick peek towards Jess and her new best-buddy. She's muttering to herself and typing so hard I think she might break her keyboard.

"Yo Jess, are you mad at your computer?"

"No Isabella, _I_ type with purpose!" She's clearly pissed. There is no way though I'm offering up Eddie here for what currently resides beside her.

"Alright," I sigh as I resign to getting back to work. "So, for today do you just want to listen?" Eddie nods his head at me.

I hook up his head set to my amp box and click the switch so that Eddie is only listening. I click the soft phone so that we are live.

* * *

_**BEEP BEEP ~**_

"Good evening, thank-you for calling Cullen International Resorts. My name is Bella; how may I assist you?"

"_I would like to book a room for December 16__th__ of 2011. Did you hear me, 2011. This year is 2010 and I want 2011. That is one year from now. 2011..."_ I tune this broad out after the 3rd mention of 2011 and roll my eyes toward Eddie.

Seriously, just because we work at a call centre doesn't make us idiots. "Hold on...um ... 2011, does that come after 2010, or...?"

"_Yes. 2011 is one year after 2010."_

She clearly doesn't get that I am joking. Sarcasm is a dying breed in this country. I give up. "Certainly, what city and state are you travelling to?

"_What do you mean what city and state am I travelling to?"_

"Oh, I mean: What. City. And. State?" I speak slowly and distinctly, as if to a young child.

"_I'm confused, you mean you aren't at The Midnight Sun Chicago downtown?"_

"May I ask what number did you dial?" I have a feeling I know where this is going.

"_Well, the number under Cullen Hotels in my phone book obviously. 1-800-CULLENS"_

I shake my head in disbelief that people like these exist.

"So, I am correct in assuming that you called the 1-800 number in your phonebook and magically the call was instantly forwarded to where you wanted to travel? What about tomorrow when you want to go to Dallas? Or next week when you want to fly to the south of France? You will instantly get 'Bonjour, madame, comment allez-vous?' I don't freakin' think so lady." I am so annoyed with this woman that I'm this close to cutting the call.

I can see out of the corner of my eye that Edward's mouth has dropped open. Yeah I bet they didn't teach that verbiage in training class.

"_Well I never, you are the rudest person I've ever spoken to! I demand you transfer me to your superior. This is simply not acceptable for_..." she's actually escalated to screeching by the time I transfer the call.

To the Spanish line.

_**~ CLICK ~**_

* * *

Let someone over there deal with this bitch.

"Uh, Bella. I think you transferred her to the wrong line." Eddie has remembered how to speak.

"You're right, but I don't have a direct line to the 1-800-you're-too-fucking-stupid-to-function centre, so Pedro is gonna have to take one for the team."

I put our phone back in Aux 9.

Eddie looks slightly distressed again. "Shouldn't we be answering another call?"

What is up with this kid? "Dude, are you already making a run for associate of the year? The only reason I agreed to babysit you is because when you're training you get unlimited aux time for the week."

If he doesn't watch it he is going to have my inner bitch coming at him in ways other than just sour facial expressions.

He still appears conflicted, "But don't I need experience? I mean in one week I have to do all this on my own."

"Yup," I answer. "Like I said, today was a listening day, you listened."

"That was one call. You switched into that aux stopping thing so fast I didn't even see it coming," he's pouting a little bit.

"Eddie," I give him a condescending smile. "I have extended expertise in all things call-blocking."

I grab my coke can and gulp some down. Eddie boy has once again placed a looked of shock on his face. I wonder if he's only allotted so many shocked faces in his lifetime before his face gets stuck like that? If we have a whole week together we are bound to find out.

"Y...ya...you...you can't drink that," he eventually sputters out.

I'm confused. He grabs the Cullen handbook of acceptable customer care service specialist behaviours. Yeah, I would have come up with a shorter name as well.

"Right here," he points. "All liquids that are to be consumed on the floor must be in a re-sealable container. What you're drinking is illegal!"

Illegal? Is this guy for real? "Really dude? I just practically told a customer off and you're concerned about my liquid consumption practices? Now if you don't mind," I gesture towards his hand that is currently resting on top of my rag mag.

Ah, back to reading about which celebrities have become one hybrid entity simply by dating each other. I actually snort when I see a picture of a yacht in some European marina. Aboard is the princess Cullen herself, in all her bleached-whore glory. She is in these magazines with a new 'true love' every few weeks. I squint to get a closer look; let's see who it is this time. I take another sip from my illicit liquid container.

Oh. My. God. The only portion of that sip of Coke that doesn't erupt into a spray all over the glossy pages in front of me ends up coming out my nose. Gross. Not as gross however as what I read on the now sopping pages.

The caption under the paparazzi photograph reads: "attending to the young Cullen heiress is her rumoured fiancé Emmett McCarty."

No way.

NO.

FUCKING.

WAY.

A muffled whimper escapes me unintentionally – somewhere between a laugh, a gasp of shock, and a groan of disbelief.

Smiling up from the page is Emmet, my best buddy and partner in crime from kindergarten until middle school, when he moved to Seattle with his dad. And now, he's engaged to her majesty, Rosalie Cullen.

Emmett and I used to get into the best trouble. He's actually partly responsible for why I failed kindergarten. I still owe him one for that. Now we've been reduced to a facebook/text/email/twitter relationship. Yes, I twitter because it's actually one of last sites not banned by the evil work internet 'big brother'. Also, the General Manager here isn't exactly in-tune with modern culture; she only just found out about facebook last week.

Emmett is the most down-to-earth yet lovably irresponsible person I've ever met. I really miss him, and I can't possibly ever see him hanging out with let alone engaged to a pretentious little princess like Ms. Rosalie Cullen.

My reverie is suddenly broken.

"Why on earth would you read that flippant crap?"

I focus on my witty response as to why delicious rags make my job just the teensiest bit more bearable when I realize he just used the word 'flippant'. "Flippant? Really Masen? And in which prep school pray-tell did we pick up such a fanciful word?"

He isn't deterred by my teasing.

"I just don't understand why you would want to read a magazine that is entirely full of lies. Do you know they follow her around day and night with cameras? No matter what country, what time of day. From hospitals to funerals, she's continually hounded."

"Whoa. Chillax dude. Did you date her or something? Because you are taking my reading this a little personally…"

"No, I didn't date her. I just think people deserve privacy, and buying that crap is just perpetuating the stalking and exploiting." He's actually going a bit red in the face as he exclaims this.

"Erm...no. What is perpetuating this is little Miss Rosie-Ro flaunting her plastic surgeon's skills over half of Western Europe. You don't see her little trust-fund siblings splashed all over these pages do you?" I shoot back at him, still curious as to why he's so concerned about her welfare.

"Rosalie just doesn't want to live incognito every minute of her every day. I bet she has to employ first rate Marine-type tactics to stay private. You always see that shit on shows like TMZ. They hold hands getting on a plane or kiss outside their hotel and it's front page freakin news!" He's angry now.

"I really don't understand why you are so concerned for this girl? She will never have to work in her entire life and the price is a little bit of her privacy. Pffft, I wish"

"She asked for that as much as you asked to be born into your family. I really don't think anyone should have to hide out simply because..."I am tuning him out again.

My phone vibrates and saves me from the irritating turn this conversation is taking, so I grab it to look at the screen. I have three messages from my mother.

_**Mama Nay-Nay –**__ B, FYI 2mrw = 1st day of Sprng & UR Vata-Pitta U rly need to switch to a Pitta-  
pacifying diet ;)_

_**Mama Nay-Nay –**__ Put a whtgrs/spirulina dry mx in ur lnch-bx, u can mix w/ur T ;) _

_**Mama Nay-Nay**_ – _U cum'n hme l8r? ;)_

I wish Jake had never taught Renee what a 'wink' is. She now thinks is the appropriate conclusion to every message. She also thinks it is perfectly acceptable to remove most vowels and short form everything. I message her back.

_**Bella **_– _Mom, I drank the tea (thanks) and I'll be staying at Jake's tonight. I will see you  
tomorrow_

_**Bella - **__p.s. Use your words (except the word cum, never ever use that word!) and full sentences  
please, we have discussed this!._

I check the time. It's eight o'clock. One more hour and then I'm free until tomorrow. I'm excited to be going to Jake's. I popped by his garage yesterday when I went shopping in Port Angeles but I haven't seen Jane and the kids in three days. Jake has been working extra hours so that when the baby comes he can spend more time at home with them. He may drive me nuts sometimes, but he's my big brother and next to my dad he's the best husband and father I've ever met. I press the mute button and click myself out of aux on the soft phone to let the calls come in. I take my head-set off and rest it on the desk.

Edward's eyes have gone saucer-like again. "Wha...wha...what are you doing?"

"Jeez, I just don't know how to make you happy. First you are worried about our time off the phone. So here you go, I put us live on the phone. Now you're worried because calls _are_ coming in? What do you want?"

"I'm worried because calls are coming in but only I can hear them because you've taken your head-set off." He sounds very distressed. He's been on the job for an hour and I can just imagine that he already has an ulcer forming.

"Oh," I laugh. "Sorry," I say as I pull his head-set off of his head and set it beside mine. "There, now no one can hear them, problem solved." I give him my sweetest smile.

"Bu...but, the guest will be talking and no one will be answering."

"Don't worry, they'll eventually hang up. Most don't hang on for longer than 30 seconds." I'm starting to get annoyed. He is very pretty but at this point it's not making up for my annoyance with him, "Relax, if a manager or lead or whatever comes by you just say that the soft phone messed up again. Trust me, I do this for a living."

I pat his hand condescendingly, giving him another sweet as pie smile as another call that we won't be answering comes in.

_**BEEP BEEP ~**_

* * *

**A/N: Do you like? Do you hate? Let me know. Oh and tell me what your absolute worst job you ever had to do was! Can you guess mine? I'll let you know and give you a teaser of next chapter which happens to be a little POV from Mr. E, just hit the button below.**


	2. The-Experiment

**A/N: Thank-you so so much for the reviews. I'm glad you like my snarky lazy Bella as much as I do.**

**As always, my gratitude to my beta Mabarberella, and my pre-beta-reader sadtomatoff and to all my other little pre-readers, monamour, duckynoel and jslpisces.**

**2-The-Experiment**

**EPOV**

* * *

"Keep up Edward; I don't know what they taught you in your 'private' Seattle classes, but you are gonna have to pay attention if you expect me to let you buddy-train tomorrow."

"Yeah, and if you flash your annoying red laser pointer in my eyes again I'm going to..." I say under my breath.

"What's that Edward?"

"Um, nothing, Phil, sir, I'll exert more of an effort." I find contempt in everything about this place; the standard commercial multi-coloured carpet; the computer sitting in front of me that is so ancient I'm surprised there isn't a roller ball; the overly obnoxious card board cut-out cartoon characters that adorn the walls with sayings like 'I'm a crazy cool converter' or 'I'm a cross-selling superstar'. Yes, I hate everything, everything except her.

She is beautiful. The most beautiful woman I have ever seen and I have spent the last five years travelling around the world. Her hair shines and falls loosly around her shoulders. I saw her the first day of my banishment to this hell-hole as punishment, or rather a 'fulfilling learning experience' as my mother had labelled it. She was riding piggy back on top of a guy with blond spiky hair. Her laugh is what caused me to turn my head. It was light, airy, and care-free. It reminded me of my mother's. Then I saw her face and I was stunned. I shouldn't even be looking at her; I have a girlfriend of three years for crying out loud. A girlfriend I love, well... like a lot. Well... honestly...tolerate. Quite frankly, I'm still with her only because she is more than adequate in the boudoir.

This girl though, her entire face lights up as she laughs. I have seen her several times this week. She has some obvious fetish with the 80's; everything from leg warmers to acid-wash jeans. I think I even saw her wear those plastic sandals Rose used to wear in elementary school. I am so drawn to the way her emotions are right there, on the sleeve of her Members'Only jacket.

I don't know why I'm so hung up on this girl. It's probably just the way that my mind is coping with this ridiculous... 'experiment' I believe my mother called it as she giggled like a giddy school girl, praising herself for her ingenious plan.

* * *

**2 Weeks Prior**

Seriously? I cut my stay in Panama short for this: a family meeting? The last time we had a family meeting, I was six. Jasper and Rosalie were eight and I idolized them. Knowing that, they had convinced me that I was adopted from a small African nation and our parents were shipping me back because they found out I had been the one who stole the cupcake from Rosalie's bake sale. I cried myself to sleep for five nights before I finally broke down and went crying to Esme. Those cads were grounded for two weeks, and lost Atari and Nintendo privileges for a full month. They are still a little bitter about it. I am, after all, the favourite and we all know it.

So here we sit, twenty-four years later, around my parents' dining room table in their home in Seattle. Rosalie sits across from me, exuding irritation, with an agitated look on her face. I can tell by her furrowed brow she's contemplating the details of some new ridiculous plan for her upcoming wedding that probably involves feathers or some other fluffy frou-frou decor. Jasper is next to me sporting a stupid lovesick grin that has been plastered on his face for the last six weeks ever since the second he laid eyes on his new girlfriend. I roll my eyes in annoyance at both of them.

Esme rises from her seat, "Well, I'm sure you are all wondering why we've..."

"Ahem" my father clears his throat under his breath. That is guaranteed to earn him the mom glare. "We've?" he continues to question rather sheepishly.

My mother turns her head sharply towards him and he's already beginning to cower. "Yes dear, we've, as in you and I, as in co-parents, or did I have two immaculate conceptions and form the holy trinity all by myself?" She waves her arm towards us and smiles slyly at him. It may be dad's name on the company letterhead, but we all know who wears 'the pants'. Most men probably couldn't handle such an assertive no-nonsense woman, but my dad has always been all googly–eyed over her. They put teenage kids to shame with their constant PDA.

She continues, "As I said, _we've_gathered you all together to inform you of a decision we have made: a sort of experiment in experience if you will." She has an evil look on her face that only can indicate one thing…we are completely screwed.

"We've let the three of you run wild for way too long. Quite frankly we are putting a stop to it before your shenanigans become an embarrassment. When Carlisle and I discussed starting our family we made a promise to ourselves that we would not become one of those socialite families whose children make front page news for their personal exploits rather than their professional ones. There will be no sex-tapes or reality superstars here."

"Ugh, Mom," Rosalie whines. "No one is putting out amateur porn! God you always overreact."

"Really Rosalie?" Esme persists, "Because those photos that I had to pay an exorbitant amount of money to stay out of press of your and Emmett's escapades in Monaco last weekend would seem to indicate otherwise." And score one for Esme. I smirk, as she has caused Rosie to turn a particularly brilliant shade of red.

"I'm not so sure what that smug look on your face is for Edward." Ah crap, I just landed myself on Esme's radar. "Your little worldwide frolics for the past five years have been less than amusing."

Jasper snorts. I shake my head, bad move buddy; Esme is fully loaded and ready to fire. "Oh Jasper, we have still yet to discuss that $7000 flower bill I received in the mail three days ago. I understand you love to impress your current flame of the month with grand gestures, but really? Draining the west coast of its lily population is entirely unnecessary and quite frankly appears as if you are trying to overcompensate for some other…shortcoming, no?" And in round three Esme delivers a knock-out punch that leaves Jasper down and out. It's over; she's won and we are all perfectly shamed into accepting whatever it is that she is about to dole out.

"In light of these behaviours that have gone so long without correcting," she presses forward, "we have decided a lesson in humility and hard work is vital to ensuring that you deserve to take your place in the family business in the future, and, more importantly, that we maintain our integrity as a family."

Even though she has an amazing poker face, I can see the pain caused by our collective escapades tainting our beloved mother's eyes and hear it in the slight break in her voice. We may act like little spoiled brats and run around care-free but our devotion to our parents has never waivered.

My father, the ever-supportive partner, notices my mother's hesitation and continues for her without missing a beat. "As you are well aware the 100th anniversary of Cullen Resorts International is coming up and we are building a new wing as well as renovating the current original Cullen Estates hotel. It is at the anniversary gala that we plan on announcing your new leadership role and commitment to eventually become the new CEO, Edward."

These are my new career aspirations, albeit reluctantly accepted. I think I always knew that eventually my future would be at CRI, I just didn't expect to come into the fold this early. I always seem to fall into in these situations. I've never really gone after anything, never had to. I just sort of follow the flow and things happen to me.

This explains the current position in which I find myself. Not only have my parents basically told me I need to grow the heck up and figure out my future, but Tori has made it quite clear that she is no longer in to committing any more of her time to a slacker. I prefer the label 'free spirit'. I don't particularly want all of her time, but I refuse to give her up. Yes, I'm that guy who has become comfortable in a three year relationship and can't be bothered to find something else that may suit me better.

Now I find myself having spent the last six months getting up to speed on everything Cullen Corporate. Tori is relentless, bringing me daily reports from the finance department to review in detail together. I seriously think it's her version of foreplay.

My mother snaps her fingers in front of my face to bring me out of my reverie. "You have all experienced the extreme extravagant privileges that the Cullen name brings with it. Now it is time for you to learn the company from the ground up."

"Ground up? Meaning what, exactly?" Rosalie seethes. She's a smart girl, she can tell where this is heading.

"Meaning, I don't think the three of you understand how privileged you really are. Much to your surprise not everyone can wake up one day and decide, oh today I will be a CEO or today I think I will go for lunch, in Paris. So I think it would be of immeasurable value for you to each work in an entry level position within the corporation." The smile Esme wears as she delivers this second knockout blow - this time to Rosalie- is a perfect mixture of smugness and self satisfaction.

Silence.

I think Jasper's jaw has actually unhinged and is taking permanent residence on the floor. Rosalie is vacillating somewhere between and aneurism and full-blown hyperventilation. I'm mildly annoyed that I will be forced to spend a prolonged period of time in one place, but honestly there is barely a difference to me between sitting in a high-rise corporate office and clearing tables in the hotel restaurant. It's the same mundane existence.

"Alright," my mother continues as she slides a folder across the table to each of us. "These are your new 'lives' for the next six months. Since you all have two surnames, Masen and Cullen, you will all simply drop the Cullen for the time being to ensure there will be no special treatment. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm going to have some fun with this while I can. Rosalie, enough with this high-maintenance bottle blonde, we're going back to the colour god gave you. Don't give me that look! You'll be thanking me when you realize there is no salon in Forks that would meet your standards anyway..."

"FORKS!" Rosalie shrieks, "Fucking FORKS! Are you fucking kidding me? That's in the middle of fucking nowhere! What the fu-"

"Rosalie, if say that word one more time, I'll not just dye your hair but cut it too. You know how I feel about such vulgar vocabulary." That threat from Esme shuts Rosie up quick. Jasper is laughing - no doubt at the mental image of a brown-haired Rosalie, something we haven't seen since she was eleven. That day she'd come home from her best friend Nettie's house in tears clutching a used L'Oreal box of home hair dye that she had spent her month's allowance on. Esme may have a hard exterior, but she melts the second she sees even a glimpse of true sorrow in one of her children's eyes. She immediately scooped Rosalie up in her arms and they spent the day at the spa getting every treatment possible. Rose had come home happier than ever with new blonde highlighted locks that eventually turned into her current bleached 'do.

I really do need to let Jasper in on the meaning of stealth. Once again he's thrown himself right in the path of Esme's wrath. "And you Jasper, I honestly do not understand how your new girl even saw past that disgusting mop on your head to accept a date invitation. You also can keep the length, but please let's all just go natural for the next six months."

I give my mom a shining grin as I have never touched a hair on my head. Well that's not exactly true, I've touched it repeatedly with a multitude of products and tools, but it still ends up wherever it wants, so I have given up on it.

As my mother fills Rose and Jazz in on their new 'small town' looks, I peruse through the folder I've been given. There is a photo of a house with a caption stating it was the Allistor Manor. It's a little run down, probably a little small for Rosalie's tastes, but it will be more than comfortable.

My mom's really gone to town on this; detailed lists of the cars we will share, instructions indicating we will live off the salaries we will make at our barely-above-minimum-wage jobs. Rosalie will definitely throw a tantrum over that.

Then I see the info sheet with our job details. Jasper is now a bus-boy in the hotel restaurant and Rosalie will be making beds and cleaning toilets with housekeeping. HA! Someone will not be making it out of this meeting completely intact when she finds that one out. Then I see it: my "learn to appreciate your life blah blah blah" job is in the hotel...the…? What. The. Hell?!

"NO WAY! NO FREAKIN' WAY!" I've stood up so fast my chair has flown backwards resulting in a loud crash as it slams into the floor. I can feel the heat from the blood that has flooded my face. "I...but...no...can't...this..." and now I've lost the ability to speak and am just sputtering in my attempt to convey how completely unacceptable this situation is.

"Humpf! Edward sit down," my mother is so underwhelmed by my antics she simply rolls her eyes and points her finger at my chair.

"Bahahahahahaha," Rosalie has clearly just read what fiery pits of hell I'm going to be sequestered to for the next six months. Jasper quickly sorts through his folder and snorts – _freakin' snorts_ – when he reads "Edward...Customer Care Service Specialist, Forks Cullen International Reservation Centre."

"Mom, do you even remember when you took me to visit one of those call centres?" I simply refuse to believe that I'm going to be stuck in one of those places for six months.

"Why yes dear, I _do_. I will have you know they are not call centres. They are customer service centres specializing in reservations," she replies, flashing the mirror image of my own signature smirk my way.

"And do you remember how I was practically kidnapped there?" I attempt to add as much trauma to my facial expression as I can muster.

"Oh pish posh Edward, you are being overdramatic as per usual." She scoffs at me. "That lovely woman did not in any way, shape or form 'kidnap' you, my dear child." Now she adds air quotes and eye rolling. "She merely took you to the break room and tried to give you some candy, to which you started screaming that she was a kidnapper because you had just watched some NBC after-school special the day before"

"She was covered in cat hair and would only give me the candy when I could recite back all the names of her 17 cats." My mother always underplays all of my traumatic experiences, but I knew better than to argue with her when she got like this. But arguing is what we do for the next two hours straight, until the three of us give up on the useless battle out of mere exhaustion and the knowledge that we will never be a match for the great matriarch of our family.

* * *

**Present Day**

Six months. I just have to last six months and then I can get back to imitating Euro Trash on the company's bill.

I'm on my 12th bathroom break of the day. Really, I just need to get away from Phil's incessant laser pointing.

Coming around the corner, I see my fantasy girl skipping toward the lunch room. A nearby plastic ficus acts as the perfect cover behind which I hide myself. Am I a 30 year old hotel heir, cowering behind a fake tree, hiding from a girl that has been giving my hand a work out three or four times a night for the last five days? Yes, yes I am.

As I re-enter the classroom, after my display of super stealth stalking techniques, I notice that the Neanderthal who is always leering at Bella, is standing at the front next to Phil. His mere presence makes me fume with possessiveness over a girl I've never even spoke to, who works in a call centre none-the-less. This strange reaction has me shaken. Why should I care if this guy - this creep - is all over some random girl I don't know? I decide to psycho-analyze the situation later.

Ape-man leaves a clip board with Phil before sneering at me as he sizes me up, leaving through the open door. A look of smug confidence is what I give back to him.

"Masen." Phil calls my name out. I just stare at him as I return to my seat.

"Oh this is beautiful," Phil lets out an amused laugh. "Good luck buddy," he says, shaking his head as he passes me a slip of paper. He slaps me on the back a few times in what seems to be a show of condolence.

The paper reads: Isabella Swan.

This Isabella could be my girl! But more likely, there's a 99 percent chance 'Isabella' the reincarnation of the kidnapper lady from my traumatized memory.

"Alright boys and girls," Phil addresses the class after handing out everyone else's trainer's name. "Grab your gear and line up at the door. I will take each of you out on the floor one at a time to meet your buddy and get you situated. Today is a listening day folks. Any questions?"

There is no way I will be able to spend a week training with crazy cat kidnapper lady. "Ya, what if we don't get along with this 'buddy'? Can we get assigned to a different one?"

"Yes, and no, my friend. Yes and no." That is Phil's answer for everything. Can I go to the bathroom? Yes, and no. Is it lunchtime? Yes, and no. Are you an evil laser-pointing robot jerk? Yes and no.

"Okay Masen, since you look so eager I will take you to meet our Isabella." I barely duck out of the way as he tries to put his arm around me like we are old friends. I've been trying to touch as little as possible in this place, I'm not going to let him ruin that.

I follow him down the series of hallways leading to the floor. Sighing, I turn towards the double doors that are like a gateway to hell. I'm about to walk through when Phil grabs me by the back of my neck.

"This way," he points to the lunch room door directly across from the floor entrance.

He registers the look of confusion on my face. "Isabella will be found in the lunch room. I can almost guarantee it. She spends more time in here than on the phones." He shakes his head, clearly not fond of this Isabella.

"Can't you just fire her?" I knew I was getting dumped on crazy cat lady. I can just imagine why she spends all of her time in the room where all the food is stored. Heck, she's probably not even a reincarnation. Most people in call centers are lifers; she's probably the same woman just 20 years older.

Phil laughs almost uncomfortably at me. "Yes and no, son. Yes, you or anyone else will be fired if you have more Aux 9 time then on the phone time. Isabella however...well...you see...honestly? We are all just scared of her."

This is utter crap. This is my company and I will not be a 30 year old man subjected to crazy cat lady for even one second. She spends all her time in the break room based on scare tactics with the management? Her ass is getting fired.

At that moment the grease ball douche Neanderthal walks around the corner.

"James," Phil gets his attention. "I need to get the rest of the class out on the floor. This is Edward Masen, you assigned him to Isabella. Can you introduce them?"

James looks me up and down. The smirk I have seen on his face since I arrived here has suddenly vanished. It is replaced with one that resembles a mixture of extreme annoyance and anger.

"This is your 'least desirable' newbie?" James sneers at Phil.

I laugh at this description. Phil shrugs at me and then turns to go back to the class.

"Un-fucking-believable." James mutters to himself. "Yeah, she's in the lunch room riding out her break. She'll be back on the phones in two minutes." He turns around and stomps into the lunchroom. I trail behind him, dragging my feet. Ugh, can my life getting any worse? This day is the worst. Every day in Forks is the worst.

"SWAN!" James yells causing me to raise my head and take in the scene in front of me.

The girl!

_My_ girl.

My beautiful translucent girl.

Then James says the sweetest words I have heard since I arrived in this forsaken town: "This is Isabella." I can definitely handle this for a week.

I'm so elated that I finally know her name and she's my partner that I don't even register what is in front of me. I just keep walking...right into the couch. Groaning, I close my eyes in pain briefly only to reopen them hoping to have our eyes meet for the first time. She doesn't even glance my way.

I sit beside her taking in every one of her minute movements. Her lips open and she speaks to me. In the back of my head a voice is putting up a fight, telling me that I am not supposed to get worked up over girls. I am not the guy who notices things like what shoes she's wearing or how she laughs. I'm not interested in facial expressions unless I'm gauging the effect of my skills mid-coitus. This girl, however, fascinates me with simple inhalation and exhalation.

I hear her ask me if I can speak. She can probably feel my gaze glaring at her. I open my mouth to answer but no words are formed. I need to get it together before she thinks I'm a little slow. Useless drivel full of pauses and sounds now expel. I'm horrified at my own behaviour; she's now going to think I'm a little slow. She'll think I'm a complete and useless twit.

As much as I would love to sit in the beautiful silence with the beautiful Isabella, I don't think lounging in the lunch room is what she gets paid to do. James said her break was up in two minutes. I make mention of this and am met with venom aimed directly at me.

Usually I would have someone's head on a platter if they spoke to me like that, but I just take. I like her giving it to me. Crap. Thoughts not suitable for the current situation run through my head. I try to focus on her words. I answer all her questions; anything to turn my thoughts way from my current urgent need to jack off.

"Well Eddie, are you ready to buddy-jack?"

She's a mind reader. She propositions me. She wants to help jack me off. I'm shocked by her offer, and a little scared. This is definitely not going to help my apparent stuttering problem when I'm in her presence. "Uh...Wh...You..B..b...buddy-what?"

"Yup. We have a long, hard night of buddy-jacking ahead of us. Don't worry virgin-boy, we'll start off slow and gentle until I get you all warmed up."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand start to move toward me. She's actually going to do this. Part of me would love to let her help relieve my situation, but this is a place of business; my place of business. Moving away from her, I try to focus on what she's telling me.

Oh good lord! She thinks I'm a virgin and that's why I don't want her touching me. I have to clear this up. Having a rule that I always give first, I begin to explain this to her.

It is then made painfully aware to me by her explosive laughter that I am sorely mistaken and that she is actually using call centre terminology. Perfect. The only person in this town that hasn't made me want to stab myself in the eye with a fork now probably thinks I'm a perverted predator. Flashbacks of the three videos we were forced to sit though featuring work-place sexual harassment scenarios run through my mind.

Thankfully she winks, and I'm pretty sure she's just yanking my chain.

We head out onto the floor and she introduces me to her co-workers. Unfortunately she tells everyone my name is Eddie. No one calls me Eddie...well, except my mother. I correct her but she is unfazed and insists on the short form. Frustrating and fascinating.

As she fumbles around getting her cubicle ready, I begin to fiddle with the equipment around me. Determined to get to know her better, I realize we need to start over. Reaching out to get her attention so that I can thank her for helping train me, I get the shock of my life.

This confirms my earlier feelings and why I've been so inexplicitly drawn to her. Chemistry. This is what chemistry is. My mother has talked about. So have my father, brother and sister. They have all had numerous talks with me about my precarious lifestyle. Repeatedly I've been told that I've never experienced true chemistry. That in that moment I would innately and irrevocably know that this was 'it'.

I just wasn't aware that it also took a physical form. A warm, tingling, tangible shock; that is what chemistry is.

Even though I know it would have been impossible to miss, I ask her to confirm said chemistry. "Wow, did you feel that?"

"Yes, jerk. That's what happens when you have your headset on and then you touch the monitor and the tower at the same time. You'll be feeling more than a just a shock if you do that again, asshole."

Oh.

She's pissed. Apparently, the equipment has it quirks, and this is what she accounts the 'chemistry' to. I apologize because she is clearly upset by it...but I'm not convinced that the equipment had anything to do with it. I'm still going with the 'meant to be chemistry' justification.

I'm jarred out of my contemplation of the recent events by her cursing. Not just random target cursing, she's cursing one specific family. Mine. Only now do I realize possible complications that may eventually surface when I am forced to reveal that I in fact am a member of this family she sees as her nemisis.

I make a mental not to examine this further. Mr. Missing Link manager is walking down our aisles with my fellow classmate Peter. Apparently he is not a desirable buddy-jack. Smiling to myself, I remember my earlier confusion with Bella's bold terminology. I glance over to her, only to find a similar expression gracing her face. I knew she felt the 'chemistry' as well; she was probably just hesitant, being co-workers an all. I would work on that.

I am delighted to find out that it is not only me who finds the blonde lecherous manager leaving much to be desired. They actually call him a moron and to make it better, it's a legitimate job title. Our mutual distaste for this manager is just one more thing Bella and I have in common.

Bella's a feisty one, that's for sure. I've only been in her presence for about 15 minutes and already I have been exposed a diverse range of her facial expressions, mostly expressing her displeasure in me. I then have to question why that intrigues me even more.

As much as I would like to sit here planning future conversations with the object of my new fascination, I do have a job to do. Always have and always will be a mama's boy and I'm going to make her proud of me.

Quickly, I realize that not only does Bella have some authority issues, but she also is not keen on following the handbook of acceptable customer care service specialist behaviours. In mere moments she has completely ignored call protocol, has illegal beverage containers in her possession and abuses the privileges she receives from being a mentor.

This will take some figuring out, reconciling my need to please my mother with my want to have this beautiful girl in front of me find me intriguing.

Determined to find out every single detail about Bella, I turn to her start up some small talk. We might as well make use of our time together if we weren't going to do our jobs.

Immediately, I see the face of my sister staring back at me from the front cover of Bella's magazine. Magazine, I scoff. Really it's nothing more than what should be lining bird cage covered in shit, because that is exactly what it is.

I can't help but defend my sister. Sure, we all fight, constantly, but I would die for them just as they would for me. Knowing the pain these picture taking scum have caused Rosalie day in and day out, I set out to tell Bella exactly how it affects her. I catch myself as my defence takes a more personal turn and I slip into referring to Rosalie as if I know her.

It is obvious she didn't catch it or she simply wasn't even listening as now she is entirely engrossed in her phone.

This, this is why I love her.

Whoa. I don't mean love love. I can't love her, I don't even know her. I mean love like how girls mean love when they say 'Oh my god I love those new shoes!' kind of love. I'm going to stop thinking now before I paint myself into a gay little corner.

Her face lights up with whatever she is reading and then quickly turns to annoyance ending with a giggle.

I'm beyond enraptured in her emotions.

For the rest of the evening she commits offenses that I would fire her for; that is if I wasn't so dazzled by her presence and in fear that outing myself as a Cullen would take her away from me forever.

At nine o'clock exactly, she shuts down the entire station, patting my on the back. "See you tomorrow Eddie. That is, if my stellar phone skills didn't scar you. I thought I took it pretty gentle for your first time." She punctuates it with a wink.

Could she actually be into me? Maybe hope is not completely lost.

I walk out of the building and quickly cross the parking lot. My Volvo sits there at the end of the row, looking as crappy as it did when it was delivered to our Forks accommodations.

Little did mom know that I had my baby flown out to meet me.

My 1965 Shelby Mustang.

Needing something to occupy my mind while I'm subjected to this life for six months, I secretly hid the shipment from my mother. I had it delivered to Black's Body Shop that apparently does the best work, not only in Washington, but on the entire West Coast.

The owner and I hit it off great at the beginning of the week when I went to check in. I`m going to drive there tomorrow morning before work again, just to check in.

I turn the Volvo onto the 101, heading to our temporary accommodations to find out about Jasper and Rosalie's adventures. As I drive, I wonder if maybe Bella wasn't entirely offended by my stuttering and sputtering? Maybe, I can woo her, as my mother would call it. Maybe, I could really get to know her, and for the first time, let someone really get to know me.

* * *

**A/N: So that is my Eddie. What do you think of him? Well if you are looking for some more Bella, then I can send out a chapter 3 teaser with a review response **

**So I love making decisions and organizing things, so I have all my fave fics categorized in a list. I love to talk fic (you can find me on twitter cherieblossum) so I will share my lists (links on my profile). I have found the best fics by authors recs. First up, is my Fab Fic 5…these aren't necessarily my favourite 5 but they are the 5 I 'make'someone read when I introduce them to fic. I'm sure have all read them, but again I like order so they are first: **

**Wide Awake by angstgoddess003 - **Edward and Bella have dark pasts that leave them severely emotionally scarred, with nightmares that force them to stay awake. They meet and begin to form a bond during the night hours. AH, Highly OOC, Rated M for dark themes. No rape, no cutting.

** by algonquinrt** - They meet at a gallery, from two different worlds. Watch as they learn... oh, who am I kidding here? They meet. They are opposites. They attract. Rated M for serious potty mouth and scenes of the citrus variety. "The Gigli of FFn" EJ Santry

**Emancipation Proclamation by kharizzmatik - **Edward is the son of a Mafia Boss. Bella is a slave who is bought by his father for undisclosed sentemental reasons. (I wrote this summary, which is why it is crappy, this fic will rule your world so run now! I should have posted this at the beginning of my chapter so you wouldn't have wasted those minutes reading mine instead of this.)

**Master Of The Universe by snowqueensicedragon** - Bella Swan is drafted in to interview the reclusive enigmatic Edward Cullen, multi-millionaire CEO of his company. It's an encounter that will change her life irrevocably. M AH

**This Is Not My Life by isakassees - **Follow Bella as she tries to survive a madman's abduction and keep a stranger's child from succumbing to his wild fantasies, and follow Edward as he tries to stay sane searching for his daughter taken right before his eyes**.**


	3. Just-Friends

**Betcha' thought this was abandoned eh? Nope…just RL consisting of a move across country, a new job, a busy birthing beta, an abduction by aliens etc. etc. etc. **

**Thank you to my beta mabarberella. Any spelling errors is just my funny Canadian. Much love to my lemon guru SadtomatoFF (look her up, read her genius). My RL/fandom crossover konstentine13. My awesome pre-readers jlpisces, duckynoel and monamour. Of course my bestest wifey revelrae and all my lovely twitter h00rs.**

**Previously on 1-800-SPARKLE-STICK: **Bella works at a call center for Cullen Hotels international and isn't exactly employee of the month. She lives in Forks. Her crazy hippie mother drives her nuts and her best friend Jane is married to her big brother Jake. Edward Cullen is the newest call centre employee. He is undercover by order of his mother to learn what real work is. He is instantly infatuated with Bella, and Bella is instantly annoyed.

* * *

** 3-Just-Friends**

I pull my broke-down lame-ass truck into the driveway of the large pink house with the wrap around porch at the end of the lane. Never, ever, will I get over that my "man's man" jock of a brother painted his house pink. PINK! He didn't even put up that much of a fight. Jane used her 'look' and the next day he was out comparing hues and buying paint.

My time is split pretty equally between my parent's house and here. Neither place is my own, but both are definite familiar safe havens.

Unlocking the door using my key, I walk through the front foyer to take in the scene before me. The television is turned on to a generic sports channel and my big brother is draped across a bright pink chaise.

I must have snorted too loudly because suddenly I'm dodging pink tasselled pillows flying at my head. Catching the third one, my eyes send daggers at Jake. "You are going to be in so much trouble if Jane finds out you threw the cashmere frou-frou pillows around her living room."

Advantage: Bella. He looks down in feigned shame and I take the upper hand launching a pillow that smacks him right in the face. It only takes a second before Jake lunges at me, our laughter giving me a disadvantage, making me an uncoordinated mess as we mock-wrestle on the Oriental rug.

Even above our laughter and playful disparaging remarks to each other, I hear the distinct sounds of fluffy-footed pyjamas shuffling down the hallway toward us. I glance up and see two pairs of dark eyes staring back at me.

"Hey Squirt One and Squirt Two." Standing in the entranceway to the living room were my two favourite people on the planet: my niece Leah and her twin brother Seth. Both of whom were currently sporting identical scowls.

"Don't call me squirt! I'm the biggest in my class!" Seth yells at me.

"Yeah!" Leah, as always, backs him up, punctuating her point with a petulant foot stomp.

Jake and I look back at each other and immediately dissolve into laughter again. We shift so that we are sitting crossed-legged beside each other.

"Hey, don't laughs at us." Seth states angrily.

"Yeah!" Leah chips in and now we have a chorus of foot stomps echoing through the hallway.

Between gasps for breath, Jake begins to shake his head. "Alright you two, stop that or you will wake your mother."

I raised my hand to smack my brother lightly on the chest. "Oh you know that Janey is awake and watching her HBO."

The twins are still staring at us with matching crossed arms and frustrated expressions donning their little faces.

"Hey you two, I may have brought home some goodies for you." I give them a smile and their faces lighten instantly.

Shaking his head, Jake lets out a frustrated sigh. "You know Bells, one day you will have kids and you bet your a-aaa—um, butt I'm going to fill them up with sugary, hyper-inducing, candy."

A small pair of gasps are heard. "Daddy," Leah's heartbroken voice visibly grabs hold of my brother's heart. "Why would you give candies to 'odder kids and not to us?" Here it is, wait for it, wait for it….

"Don't you love us daddy?" Complete with a pout and a lip quiver. I taught her that shit. I used to pull that shit on Jake when we were little and he never wanted to let me hang out with him and his friends.

Jake smacks my arm and then gives me an evil glare while pointing an accusing finger in my direction. I think he may have even growled at me. I simply shrug at him.

"Alright, terrible twosome! My purse is in the kitchen by the door and inside you will find some cupcakes from the evil Cullen Hell Center." Jake gives me an incredulous look while Seth and Leah stumble over each other to get to the sacred sweets.

"Fantastic Bella, you come on in here, get them flying high on sugar and then take off so Jane and I take care of the aftermath?" The look on his face is priceless. The extra hours at work along with the complications with Janey's pregnancy are really taking a toll on him.

"Oh brother, you doubt me? I would never do that to you…okay I would, but not tonight. What I'm going to do is get them hyped up on sugar, and send you and Janey out to the diner for date night." I give him a genuine smile.

"Bells, Jane…." I cut him off by placing my hand over his mouth.

"The doctors suggested Jane be on light activity not bed ridden. You guys need some alone time and I need some twin time. It's win-win. Plus, I plan on not only inducing an extreme sugar high…but we are also going to watch annoying movies that will have them quoting for days and I'm going to teach them all the pranks from our childhood to launch on you when you least expect it. One eye open big guy, one eye open." I pick myself off the floor and make my way to the stairs to go visit Janey and get her ready for her date.

"Twenty minutes Jakey, you be ready and waiting for your lovely wife. And no, I don't care that you just got of work…if I see any sort of cut off denim…this next baby will be your last."

Television sounds can be clearly heard from Jake and Jane's bedroom when I reach the second floor. Jane had a rough pregnancy with the twins. She was put on bed rest with pre-eclampsia and delivered early. Both Jane and Jake have always dreamt of a huge family, so after three miscarriages Jane was insistent on following doctor's orders to the letter. So light activity to her was practically bed rest.

Making a point to project more noise than I normally would as to not scare or surprise Janey; I knock a few times and open the door to see Janey perched on a mountain of pillows in the middle of a four -poster canopy bed.

Everything in the bedroom was white. You might think it would be pink, to match the house and all, but no, it was pure white with accents of dark cherry wood. Her eyes remain fixated on the flat screen on the opposite wall, "Hey Bells. Come join?" She pats the pillow sitting to her right.

Crawling up on the bed, arranging pillows, I settle in beside her. "What we watchin' Ms. Janey Jane?"

"Big Love. It's about polygamists."

"Okay then, pass me some of that chocolate." I wave my hand over to the make-shift organic, all natural candy store she has created beside her.

We finish the episode that she was watching when I came in, gossiping during the commercials.

"Sooooo," she begins, and I can tell she's about to raz me about something. "Any one new, interesting and I don't know…gorgeous at work today?"

I give her a look like I have no idea what she is talking about, because I don't.

"Jessica called, whining about some new hot guy at the center and how you were all over him." She's smirking at me, and then takes a sip of her juice. She's knows exactly how to get to me. We go back to before she even met my brother. I met her in my first year of college, she was the president of my sorority at UCLA, the Kappa Kappa Gamma's. I know; me, in a sorority? That was before I realized that life wasn't a giant keg party, and rich preppy frat boys aren't really Prince Charming's in disguise.

I am about to answer her when there is a blur of massiveness zooming across the floor, it becomes a giant leap and then finally sends pillows flying in disarray as it crash lands on the bed.

"Jaaaaaaaake." Both Jane and I are doing some combination of a groan and a shriek as our candy goes flying and are drinks slosh everywhere. He simply laughs.

"Ugh…why do you even keep him around Jane? You already have his sperm, he's useless outside of that. Really you could replace him with a garbage disposal and a nanny." His foot quickly kicks towards my body - if it was just a little bit faster, it would have shoved me right off the bed, but I catch it in time and push it back toward the center of the bed. "Jackass!"

His reply is a simple smirk.

"Bella." Jane sighs and shakes her head. "Those two things could never replace my husband." Jake's smirk has turned into a full on cocky grin. She continues, "I would also need a substantial vibrator."

"Okay, I'm a little grossed out because he's my brother, but ohhhhhhh snap." I lean over and give her a high five as we share an understanding, premeditative look, and shove kicks in Jake's direction, efficiently sending him and several pillows tumbling of the bed and onto the floor. Jane and I high five again. I always questioned my brother's judgement in marrying my best friend. Total tag team all the time.

Jake climbs back on the bed tossing a padded bolster in our direction. "Truce ladies, truce." Hands are raised in the appropriate 'I surrender' fashion, and we accept the momentary cease-fire.

Jane crooks her finger toward Jake and he crawls up the bed to lean over her and place a chaste kiss on her lips. The both let out a simultaneous sigh and I can tell this is about to become NSFS (not safe for sisters).

I clear my throat with exaggeration so that they get the point and cut it out.

"So Bells, did Janey fill you in on the new ride that came into the shop at the beginning of the week?"

"Yes Jakey, your little shop and fetish for four-wheeled vehicles is always our go-to topic of conversation." I can tell that my brother actually thinks we do sit around and talk about his stupid cars.

"Whateves Bells, it's a fuckin'1965 Shelby Mustang…"

I cut Jake off. "Stop talking buddy before you cream your jeans."

"Maybe you don't care, but I know Janey does." He leans in for another kiss. Jake is Jane's brand of kryptonite. She is completely fuckin' rockstar until my brother gets his mouth on her and then she's all googly eyes.

Jake insists on continuing, "The owner has been coming by every day, and he's apparently some trust-fund…."

"LA LA LA LA LA LA LA…" My fingers are in my ears and I'm screaming like a toddler just to get him to shut up. Honestly, I'm my brother's biggest supporter. I've spent countless hours from the time he got the idea to become a mechanic, to pouring over the books when he launched his start-up store, to arranging the grand opening soirée for his latest franchise development. I just don't want to hear him orgasm over some hunk of metal.

Screaming as loud as I have alerts the kidlets to our location and they come sliding across the floor, flinging themselves onto the pillow-topped bed.

A tickling war ensues until Leah, as only Leah can, demands we stop. I believe she stated reasons of increased rate of breathing can activate latent trigger points in her diaphragm. Someone left the health and wellness channel on again. I swear that child has some kind photographic eidetic memory or some shit.

With a twin snuggled up on each side, I grab the remote, switch Netflix on, and press play on Labyrinth. In no way am I leaving the minds of these children in Jake's hands, he'd have them all hyped up on some modern remake of a classic that was perfect in its original form. It's my job to expose the youth to the genius of eighties film making.

"Okay you two," I nod towards the lovey-dovey twosome. "Off you go! I'm watching these two while you head out. You are waaaaay too old to be crashing our party."

Both Leah and Seth dissolve into a fit of giggles.

"Yeah, you guys are super old!" Seth shouts at his parents before covering his mouth as laughter spills out.

Jake scoffs, "Yeah, because Auntie Bella is so much younger than us."

Seth, being the best buddy that he is, fights back. "Auntie Bella is the bestest most funnest hip cool chick in whole widest world!"

My work here is done.

Using a pillow as my weapon of choice, and Jake's head as my target, I aim, fire, and hit. "Now, leave us to our fantastical world of the great David Bowie, and be gone with you."

Matching sentiments are shouted from my sidekicks.

"Alright, alright, we get the hint. We will get out of here and leave you to your magical mischief." Jane kisses each of the twins on the top of their head, and then kisses my forehead as well. "Thanks Bella." She whispers before getting off the bed.

We share a look of mutual adoration before Jake ushers her out of the room.

The kids and I enjoy the film and sing along to each song at the top of our lungs. Half of the movie is spent inducing a sugar high and the other half is watching the inevitable crash.

I have the room cleaned up and both of them in bed before Janey and Jake make their way home. After quick goodbyes and a promise to stop by the shop tomorrow to get a look at the new cream machine, I'm off.

Originally I planned to go straight home but unlike the twins, I am still riding high on sugar and need to burn off the excess energy and work out some of the residual work stress still lingering from my day of babysitting the irritating newbie.

Pulling up in front of Garrett's house, I stop the car to grab the garage door opener out of the glove box. I always park in his garage; Forks is way too small to have my car parked outside Garrett's house at all hours of the night.

I park in the garage beside Garrett's Volvo. Gross. Such a yuppie car.

A crunching sound comes from under my soles as I step out of my truck. Garrett has put a tarp down on my side of the garage. He pitched the biggest fit last time when ol'Susie Q here leaked oil all over the garage floor.

I reach the door to get into the house, manoeuvring my back-pack around to my front so that I can search inside for my keys.

Fuck. Why do I always throw my keys back in my bag? I mean, I literally just turned off the car and had the big, what, 12 or so steps to the back door?

Umbrella, mittens, wallet, wallet, wallet – yes I have three, I'm neurotic – lipstick vibrator, condoms…aha! Keys!

God, Garrett is so paranoid. He has four separate locks on this door. It's fucking Forks! No one wants your shit, Garrett.

After I unlock and then relock Fort Knox, I slip out of my sneakers and silently drop my bag, lighter by one…hmm let's make that three condoms.

Although frightening him will instantly get his adrenaline pumping, that didn't work out so well last week. I have the bruises, burns and spaghetti stained shirt to prove it.

"Garrett!"I yell while knocking on the door behind me. "Ohhhh Garrett!"

I pass the living room, not even a light on. Coming to the base of the back staircase leading to the second floor…nope, not a hint of movement coming from up there. One of these days we will make it up to the bedroom.

As I get to the other side of the house, I hear what could be confused with cat screeching, but is actually the 'singing' of one Garrett Shire.

The doorframe of the laundry room supports my weight as I take in the sight before me. Garrett in his six foot two glory in a black t-shirt and boxers. Sigh. I love laundry day.

My hand comes up to cover my mouth. I want to laugh. Garrett has all his clothes sorted into separate piles and he's filling the oversized tub sink with warm soapy water for pre-soaking.

Metrosexual defines Garrett. He was raised by five sisters, lives in a pristine raised ranch, with prize winning pruned roses in the front gardens. He also fucks like a porn star.

His boxers were sitting just below his hips and I can't wait to slip my hand under the waistband. He is so into his iPod and colour sorting he hasn't even noticed me right in front of him.

When he turns his back again to start loading his whites into the machine, I quickly remove my jeans, followed by my sweat shirt and tank top. Wrapping them up in a tight ball, I expertly toss them over Garrett's shoulder right into the machine.

A high-pitched scream fills the small room. His head turns toward the door and his scowl quickly fades into a mischevious smirk.

Before I know what is happening, Garrett has scooped soapy water out of the machine and launched it towards me.

I am about to get fake angry when I realize that he has sufficiently soaked my lace covered bra effectively enough to make it see through. His attention is now focused on my chest, allowing me to reach my end goal more quickly.

"Babe, I came here to fuck, not play water games." I shake my head at him.

"Oh really Ms. Swan? Because I seem to remember last week you were very interested in some water games." He makes a slow progression toward me with a wicked look in his eyes.

Biting my lip, I let out a small groan as the memories of the previous weekend and our water activities flash through my mind. The hot tub, the shower, the sprinkler, the hot tub, the slip and slide, the hot tub, the hot tub, the hot tub….

Sufficiently distracted, I jump when suddenly Garrett's hands wrap around that spot where my ass meets my thighs. Before I can even enjoy the feel of his hands, his lips have attached themselves to my collar bone and he has swiftly lifted me up and is walking toward the water basin.

We reach the enlarged sink and he perches me on the edge. Kisses turn into soft bites. After a year, he knows my body better than anyone and knows exactly which move elicits which reaction.

This is the best part of having a fuck-buddy. He knows exactly what to do because I have trained him. Also, with no emotional involvement in our sexual relationship, I have no problem telling him when I like something and when something is just plain bad.

Like right now, the way his tongue is dipping below my collar bone? I taught him that; it's a level 4 move. There are only 5 levels, so it's pretty up there. I spent five years with Paul and he never did level 4…..he was a level one for two minutes then jump to five.

Garrett here knows all the levels, he also knows the rules. No kissing on the mouth, no gross public displays of affection and no hurt feelings when one of us walks away from the benefits part of our friendship.

Garrett's tongue makes its way down between my breasts, and I can feel his hard-on pressing into me through his boxers. I bite down on his shoulder and he shoves his hips forward to find more friction.

With no grip on the side of the tub, his thrust sends me slipping backwards. I try to fold my legs around him to keep me from falling all the way in, but it's too late. I find myself suspended in warm, soapy water. I guess it's water games after all.

Lips are once again attached to my neck and sucking. Garrett's hands ascend up my outer thighs, into the water, and under the edge of my underwear. As I begin to writhe, he gropes my ass, and I pull him closer to me. His fingers slide closer to my center and begin their explorations.

I place my own nips along his defined jaw line. Reaching his ear, I slowly lick the outer edge before lightly biting down on his ear lobe. "Well, you've sufficiently got me soaking wet, I think we can cut the foreplay and focus on the main attraction."

He shudders from my whispers and pulls me out of the laundry tub. To make sure I don't slip, I wrap my legs tightly around Garrett's waist and anchor my body to his torso. I struggle to hoist my body higher so that his lips will travel from the base of my neck down to my breasts.

Instead, he removes his mouth from me completely. He turns us, and walks further into the laundry room. Suddenly I find myself lowered to the floor, leaning back onto the piles of sorted clothes that are now becoming one jumbled heap.

Garrett pauses and takes in the sight of my wet, soap-soaked body. He reaches forward and pulls the sides of my underwear down my thighs. While he is busy doing that, I stretch my arms behind my back and unfasten the clasp on my bra, leaving me completely bare and leaning back, resting on my elbows.

I like to be in control, though, so this position is not going to do it for me.. My fingers find their way to the waistband of his boxer briefs as he hovers over me. Fisting the fabric in my left hand, I grab his hip with my right. Using my stealthy super-smexin skills, I manage to reposition us so that Garrett is now lying on the mound of dirty clothing. Yeah, like I was going to just lay there in his filth. Ew.

I quickly jump up, leaving Garrett there looking way too good to be lying on dishevelled, dirty clothing. I shove my hand over to the edge of the shelf above the washing machine just beside his colour-guard sheets and retrieve a condom from the strategically placed box as the ones from my purse are now floating in the sink. We quickly learned to have every room stocked including the pantry closet. That was a fun night.

Garrett knew from the get-go that no condom was not an option. I also insist on regular STD testing, and I know that he is not sleeping with anyone else. Yet, lessons were learned long ago that I simply can't trust those outside my family circle.

I toss the condom at him. I'm not into that much manual labour.

After he is suitably gloved up, I position our bodies so that I'm pressed against him, sliding his cock between my folds. His head falls back and his lips part. I know exactly how to leave him speechless.

I only put up with this for a few moments before I get impatient and lift myself so I am hovering over the tip of his cock. As I slam myself down on him, I twist my fingers in his hair and pull it to the side, exposing his neck. I bite down hard where his neck meets his shoulder, sinking my teeth into his skin

I don't draw blood but I do bite hard enough to leave my mark. I am rewarded when much to my satisfaction; Garrett lets out a ferocious screaming grunt and clenches his ass, thrusting violently upwards into me. He always just needs a bit of a kick start to lose control.

After a few minutes, his arms wrap tightly around my waist and he somehow scoots backwards a foot or so and manoeuvres himself so his back is leaning against the far wall, both of us now completely engulfed in disarrayed heaps of clothing.

With his back supported he's able to anchor his hands on my hips and begins slamming my pelvis down onto his with great force. We have built up a sheen of sweat shimmering across our skin, - just enough to make us slightly sticky. I can feel the pressure building in the pit of my stomach. I slam one of my palms against the wall beside his head, my other arm wrapping around the back of his shoulder, positioning my breasts right at his mouth.

Taking the bait, his lips attach to my right breast and his teeth begin to graze the nipple before biting down with a little more force. We maintain our pace as his tongue swipes out to tease me further before he uses his teeth once again to pinch, roll and pull my sensitive flesh.

The familiar pattern sets in and we actually begin to speed up, becoming more frantic and uncoordinated in our movements. And the well-trained subordinate that he is, Garrett slides his right hand off my hip and down across my lower abdomen, placing his thumb right over my swollen nub.

It only takes a few moments more before I can feel our simultaneous release crashing over us. Slumping forward, I wrap both arms over his shoulders holding tightly to his neck to ride out my orgasm. His forehead rests against my shoulder and his hands lazily stoke the sides of my body up and down.

The sounds of sliding skin have resolved into panted breaths. We sit there for several minutes existing in post-coital bliss. Then I remember where we are lying, and as hygienically OCD as Garrett is, it's still pretty groady that I'm lying in his filth. Yes, I am aware his dick is still inside me.

Still catching his breath, Garrett manages to wheeze out, "there's… left-over pizza… in the fridge."

"Extra olives?" Garrett hates olives.

"Always." His lips curl up into a satisfied smile after speaking the word.

"Mmmmmm, good." I ruffle his hair as I stand up and search for some sort of clean clothing to wear. "You always know just what I like." With a wink I open the dryer and grab a pair of his boxers and a white tank top.

Eagar to dispose of the condom, Garrett jumps up and leans forward, facing the other side of the dryer, placing it in the garbage can there.

As I slap his ass on my way out of the room, I chime: "I'm going to eat some pizza babe, but you better be ready for round two in twenty minutes."

* * *

**A/N: Check out Jake and Jane's pink house on my profile (it's actually my neighbour's house…shhhhh). So this update I decided to let you in on my 5 favourite Bella's (in fairness I already rec'd Mr. Horrible that has a fabulous Bella!). So if you want, leave a review, get a teaser and please let me know what fic had your favourite Bella and why you liked her!**

**Bella Swan Kidnapper by Kambria Rain: **Um. Hi. I don't really know how to say this, but I have your kids with me, and I was thinking maybe you would like them back. So yeah… call me.

**Falling For The First Time by SnowWhiteHeart: **Lonely Edward finally found a place where he fits in—the World of Warcraft. He meets a girl from Phoenix, and when she moves to Edward's neck of the woods, the nerdy sparks fly like lightsabers clashing

**Age Of Consent by littlesecret84: **Bella's summer internship turns interesting when Charlie arranges for Edward to drive her to and from the courthouse. As they talk and get to know each other, the sexual attraction Bella feels from the beginning evolves into something more

**Under The Apple Tree by danieller123: **Love that hurts can sometimes heal. Ever wish you could go back and change something you did in life? Bella does.

**Art After 5 by sleepyvalentina: **Bella Swan had life figured out until she met sixteen-year-old Edward Cullen. A few months and an intense emotional connection later, she finds herself on a journey toward self-acceptance while questioning everything she'd previously accepted as true

****links on my profile****


	4. Showtime

**A/N: Even I don't remember what happened before this so you may want to refresh yourselves. Mabarbella is the best beta and responsible for anything good in this.**

**4 - Showtime**

**EPOV**

* * *

Oh for the love of all that is holy! I grab my blackberry off the nightstand to confirm that the hour is, indeed, ungodly.

Seven a.m. Confirmed.

Now the question: why on earth is my annoying sister blasting eighties pop music and accompanying it with a drum solo on our entire collection of pots and pans?

I know it's my sister because Jasper hasn't seen this side of noon since he was 12 years old. I stumble down the stairs, drag myself down the hallway and lean against the doorway to the kitchen.

There Rosie is in all her glory, with her make-shift pot and pan drum kit. It's actually pretty impressive: different levels, pot lids strung up as symbols, graters, spatulas and an assortment of utensils all arranged for her to create this cacophonous symphony.

In the far corner, sitting on a stool, is Emmett, rocking out to his fiancée's drum solo, head banging and all. I strategically tip toe around the rock star and her gear, making my way to Emmett.

"Em, what the heck is all this?" I wave my arms dramatically around the kitchen.

"Just livin' the dream baby!"

This is Emmett's answer to almost everything. "Em, how is your day? Em, where are you off to? Em, don't eat that. It's past its expiry date!" That one is usually preceded by a shoulder shrug before the standard "Just living the dream, baby!" That kid gives laid back a new meaning.

I throw out some stellar double-O-seven moves to get myself a cup of coffee before making my way back upstairs. I nearly drop my coffee in shock as an unkempt street person comes down the stairs…but then I realize it's only Jasper. He mumbles something incoherent. I make out the words "kitchen skank," "pantry" and "lard," his words effectively causing me to shudder at the images they conjure.

I walk down the hall to my bedroom, a huge part of me dying to just sleep the day away and pretend that this nightmare of a town doesn't exist. The prospect of getting into the mechanic's shop today, and for the first time since moving here actually working on my baby, though, gets my blood pumping.

Rose and Jasper have strewn boxes of their crap across the hall and in every nook and cranny. Slobs. We moved in over a week ago, but I know that this state of disarray is destined to remain unchanged until we leave, as they naively hold onto the hope that our mother reneges on her life lesson.

I look down at my watch and figure I have a few hours before I make my way to the shop, just enough time for a catnap. Lying back in my unmade bed, I grab my iPod and search until smooth streams of Sade soothe my weary head. As my eyes close, my mind wanders back to the day we drove into town.

* * *

_I nervously check my phone again, waiting for the confirmation email that my baby, my pride and joy, my perfect little piece of machinery for which I would so easily trade my sister or my girlfriend, had been delivered to the mechanic's shop in a nearby town._

_After spending countless hours on the phone to the owner of the shop in an attempt to reassure myself that he could be trusted with my Shelby, I feel better about handing her over, but I don't harbour that same trust in the delivery service. I swear the clerk who filled out the bill of lading laughed when I suggested packing the crate with some sort of bubble wrap and down feather combination._

"_Rosalie, I swear if you don't turn that down…" The nonstop karaoke warbling of my sister screeching out the lyrics of 'All By Myself' at impromptu intervals threatens my sanity. She just gets louder and louder as if attempting to out-sing Celine Dion in the hope that Emmett will somehow magically appear. Even Jasper is wincing, but with a hit of compassion, as he mutters that he feels her pain._

"_My ears are bleeding Rosalie! You are engaged. Engaged! You didn't break up, and a temporary separation will not kill you. In fact, why don't you just focus on the reunion…silently?" That earns me a one fingered salute from Rosalie._

_I don't have time to respond, however, as I'm suddenly thrust against the window of the passenger side door, due to my darling brother once again not paying attention to the road while driving. I don't know why I agreed to letting that prat drive, outside of his constant moaning about driving being the only way to cheer him up while being away from Alice for a few months._

_It is ridiculous the way these two are acting. I won't see Tori for a few weeks – maybe months - but I'm not crying over it, and we've been together longer than both Em and Rose or Jazz and Ali put together._

_PING! Ah, the sweet sound of a new text message._

_Finally! My beautiful chariot has arrived at her destination. I quickly call the mechanic to make sure it was a smooth delivery and to tell him I will stop by later just to check on things, if I make it through this roller coaster ride disguised as a road trip to our new home, that is._

"_Edward, I don't understand why you didn't just drive your car. That would've saved you the headache of worrying about it and us the headache of having to put up with you." _

_Once again, Jasper swerves into the oncoming lane of traffic, as he's talking rather than paying attention to the road._

_An annoyed scoff escapes me as I try to explain to my dear brother how it would have gone if, after the overly dramatic goodbye with our parents, Jasper and Rose pulled away in a Volvo and I got behind the wheel of my fully-restored 1967 Shelby GT500 concourse. Somehow I don't think my mother intended a $500,000 car to be part of this "real life experience."_

_35 minutes later, we pull up in front of a large but rather dilapidated mansion. Not that it's a mansion by Cullen standards, more like an extremely large dwelling that hasn't been kept up in what looks like decades. _

"_Oh hell no! Hell no, no, no, no, no!" Rosalie follows this with a string of expletives before grabbing her cell phone and speed dialling our mother. The cursing is a welcome change from the so-called singing._

_Suddenly, the front door of our decrepit palace swings open and Emmett bounds across the porch and down the stairs, scooping up Rosalie as she launches herself into his arms._

"_Well, I'm glad mother at least had the decency to staff the house…too bad she couldn't get some capable help." I holler in his direction before making my way over to give a very manly handshake-hug-cop-out. . I am still in a bit of shock after the string of Rosalie's douche-bag boyfriends that she ended up with someone as awesome as Emmett. I may or may not have a bit of a bromance crush on him._

_Jasper waits by the car with an expectant look on his face. "Dude," I shake my head. "You know that Ali is in Paris until next week." He nods and wipes away the hint of a tear._

_A loud guffaw, the volume of which could only be produced by Emmett, is heard by all of us, and the neighbours ,no doubt. "She made you drive a Volvo with a UHaul attached?" The laughter continues. "Man, I adore your mom to no end. Esme rocks!" He punctuates this with a massive fist pump._

_Emmett throws Rosie over his shoulder, slapping her on the rear before making his way over to the Uhaul to grab two boxes with his free arm. _

_He passes Jasper and I on his way into the house. "Wait 'till you see the room I claimed for us. A fireplace, balcony and huge king bed! We're livin' the dream baby!"_

_Balancing my own set of three boxes, I set off to find my very own 'dream' room in this house of horrors. We leave Jasper alone at the end of the driveway, and as I walk through the front door I faintly hear "Allllllll Byyyyyy Myyyyyyself!"_

_This will be the longest six months of my life._

* * *

I must have dozed off, because when I wake up my iPod is now playing Santana after having gone through my collection of Sade.

Quickly, I change into a t-shirt and jeans that I don't mind getting covered in grease. This will be the best day since we moved in; it will also take my mind off the new love of my life: one Bella Swan. Being at the shop working on my car will get me feeling like myself again. The me that dates women out of convenience; the me who only remembers the birthdays of my mother and sister; the me who would have blown off this preposterous challenge of 'real living' off the second I realized that I cared about deciphering that dark haired beauty's expressions. I don't need this kind of disruption to my carefree style of living and I refuse acknowledge the warm fuzzies accompanying all thoughts of her.

All the doors upstairs are closed, which means that I will run down the hall with plugged ears humming loudly to myself. I've heard way too many disturbing, brain-bleach-requiring noises coming from behind the closed doors of Jasper, Rosalie, and even, _shudder_, my parent's doors. I simply will never understand why they don't just book rooms at the Ritz like I do. When you own the chain, you can have a whole floor to yourself.

_Post-it, post-it, post-it, where can I find a post-it_. I know we have stacks of them because every day this week we have come home to a new living room mural made entirely out of post-its. This is Emmett's way of being productive while Rosalie is at work. I settle for sticking a piece of yesterday's "Topless Women of Rock" montage mural, the artistic merit of which Jasper and I tried to convince Rose, on the kitchen table, alerting them to my whereabouts and that I have taken the Volvo.

Not like they would think someone stole it. As I'm driving I realize I actually don't mind this town. It's a sleepy little place. Who knows, maybe I'll buy this house and fix it up - and by that I mean pay someone else to fix it up - and use it as a vacation home. Also, Em is from here; I make a mental note to remember to ask him about Bella. Another plus about this place is that Jake and I are on the fast track to being great friends. Honestly, it's the most genuine relationship I've had outside of family in what seems like ages. Most mechanics would be annoyed that I have stopped by everyday just to make sure the shop hasn't burnt down or my car hasn't been stolen or damaged, but he's cool about it.

I push the Volvo's limits so I make the trip to Port Angeles in about forty five minutes. The parking spot that I have used every day is available. I'm thinking about getting a sign saying "Cullen Parking" or I guess "Masen Parking" just to make sure it's always vacant.

With a pile of magazines, catalogues, and notes I want to discuss with Jake in hand, I stroll through the entrance of the garage. Once I can tell Jake my real last name is Cullen, I think I will talk to him about investing. This is the best garage I've ever been to. I love the staff, the equipment, the set-up, the music…wait, the music?

_A whole new world. A new fantastic point of view. No one to tell us no, or where to go, or say we're only dreaming..._

The twilight zone. I've walked into the freaking twilight zone or some kind of hidden camera show because there is no way this music would be playing or that the head mechanic, Quil, would be doing some sort of interpretive dance. Maybe I am really living a version of Punk'd for CEO's. Maybe my mother is the next Sharon Osbourne and has contracted our family out to have a reality show. Maybe this entire thing is a joke, and even Bella is an actress. Then we would be free to have some huge Hollywood romance that would be the talk of all those trashy magazines she likes to read. I'll play along.

I put a big smile on my face, making sure I glance at each possible hiding place for a camera. I need to stage a big blow-up; that's what will bring the viewers in. I'll even throw in something they will have to bleep out, just for ratings sake.

"What is with this fucking music?" I place an irate yet confused look on my face.

"It's the little fuckin' mermaid; what's it to ya?" Well, that's weird. That actor's voice sounds like one of a small child. Looking down, I see that it is, in fact, the voice of a small child: a boy with dark hair and dark eyes.

Wracking my brain for an answer to this child, I hear and aggravated rumbling scream from the back of the shop. In a flash, Jake stomps up to the front of the shop with great speed and boisterous yelling.

"Who said it? Which one of you jer…er….not nice guys said it? You know the rules…and it's just gone up to five dollars. Whoever you are give the kid five dollars!"

Ooookay. This must be part of the gig. I open my wallet and only have fifties, so I hand one over, making sure I smile at all the hidden cameras. I may have made the child pose with me and the fifty dollar bill displayed for all the hidden cameras.

"Masen, what the hel….heck? I figured it would have been one of these goons for the umpteenth time," he glowers towards his staff.

"So sorry man, I just didn't expect there to be a Disney musical production equipped with a toddler audience when I walked into a body shop. No worries though," I point to the fifty dollar bill that the little merman is holding, "I'm prepaid in case it happens again."

I try to play the cool trust fund kid with no worries. Don't want to mess up that major motion picture deal I could get when the executive of Summitt sees this tape and lose the acting career I never wanted but am suddenly fantasizing about.

"No worries dude." He slaps me on the back, not surprisingly in front of hidden camera number three, which inconspicuously is disguised as a toolbox. "It was an impromptu take your kids to work day and if they come home with the mouth of a sailor, I'm the one that's gonna be put on a time out if you know what I mean. Here let me introduce you to my kids."

The kid with the potty mouth and the mermaid shirt is grabbed first. "This here is Seth, he's four." Seth sticks his arm out straight in front of him in some claw like Lady Gaga little monster pledge of allegiance and screams "Roma Ro Ma Ma Ga Ga Oh La La!"

"And somewhere in here is Leah. Oh little Ms. Leah, where are you?" Jake begins to search as his eyes rest upon the corner of the front desk. Standing there, half hidden by the desk, is a small girl with delicate features. Everything she is wearing is pink, the dress, shoes, hair thingy, etc.

If she were about fifteen years older, I would swear she was flirting with me. Now I'm used to 'enthusiastic attention'rom the opposite sex, and to be honest, from the same sex as well, so I recognize all the signs. Her chin is tucked into her left shoulder, her fingers play with her right pigtail, and she is batting her eyelashes furiously. I swear I even see her pucker her lips a bit.

Jake notices too; I'm sure of it because he's giving me a stink eye now. I would freak out but I know this is all part of 'their' script. Amazing how they got a four year old to follow direction that well. I can totally do this; I just need to make a quick game plan. Jake is introducing us, so I don't have much time to strategize.

I decide to lay it on thick and placate the small child, "Why hello there Princess Leah! My, you look pretty today."

"Why thank you Mr. Eddie, I can call you Mr. Eddie?" She's back to the excessive lash batting that really looks more like double-eyed blinking. Furthermore, what is with the women of this town and their obsession with shortening my name?

"Well, actually Leah, I pref…" she cuts me off, grabbing my hand and dragging me over to the table

"Great cause I like Eddie. Do most of the peoples call you Eddie? I hope not 'cause I like being 'ridginol. My auntie says always be 'ridginol and carry rubber suits. I don't have one of those…do you Mr. Eddie?"

How does one answer that? This reality hidden camera stuff has gone too far.

Jake is watching us with an amused look on his face. I motion to the magazines that I have left on the front counter. They have colour-coded tabs with cross references so he will understand exactly what I'm thinking about. He nods, picks up the pile and heads to the back bay where my Shelby is already up on a lift.

Leah, more than slightly perturbed that she is not currently my sole focus, demands my attention back by clearing her throat, which is more of an exaggerated cough. "Here you go Mr. Eddie. You colour fairies…and don't makes any of them blue, ok? Blue is icky." A colouring book filled with mystical creatures is placed in front of me. Noticing that the toolbox hidden camera is on the shelf above me, I use this time to stealthily get a better look.

I must distract the little one first. "What about yellow? Is yellow an icky colour?"

"Oh noez, Mr. Eddie, yellow is like gold…I really like and 'preesiate anything gold…pacifically presents that are gold," and we are back to the over-zealous blinking. Yeah, this one has been taught well.

"Alright then Ms. Leah, let me see if I can find you a gold present that you will be able to appreciate." With that I stand and reach up on the shelf to pull down the red tin 'fake' toolbox.

"Oh Mr. Eddie, you are sooooo silly," she shakes her head and giggles before returning to her own magical colouring book.

The latch on the box seems to be stuck. Searching around for a screwdriver, I pause for a moment to colour the skirt on the head fairy yellow. It earns me a sideways glance, a smirk, and a nod of approval from my newest admirer.

This will take a major covert operation, armed with a screwdriver in one hand and crayon in the other. One crayon stroke for every screwdriver slam.

"Erm, Mr. Eddie?"

I stop both stroking and slamming. "Yes sweetheart?"

"Why are you beating the tool box?"

"Well, …um…erm…you see I was adding some percussion to the music and…" I have no idea how to cover this up.

"You are still being silly." Giggling, she reaches over and presses both sides of the latch and the box pops open.

Avoiding being obvious, I continue to colour for a few minutes. Leah then breaks out the glue and sparkles and before I know it we are covered in both. I figure it will look good on camera, caring for the kid and all. Leah runs over to Jake to show him her masterpiece, and I get my chance to find the camera.

Lifting the top tray out, I find…another tray? Followed by another tray and then a fourth tray. There is no camera in here. Examining it closer, the pin hole that I thought was for the lens is actually just a puncture spot in the tin. Huh, they must have been really meticulous about camera placement.

Unassumingly I get up and start to make my way around the room, checking every nook and cranny for possible camera placement. I'm not as sly as I think I am because I've drawn the attention of Quil.

"You do know that your car is at the back being worked on right?" his words come out, purposely reserved.

"Uh, yeah…yeah, I do."

Is it in the cash register? That would make sense; you would get a full view of all the customers. Quil is looking at me like I'm covered in sparkles or something. Wait, I am covered in sparkles. Nonetheless, he looks astonished.

"What?"

"Dude, you stop in every day and have told Jake not to let any of us even breathe near it if you aren't present, and now you aren't even paying attention to what Jake is doing to it." He points to the back bay.

Before pressing my lips in a thin line, I look around to see if there are any hidden camera men. I whisper, "I know about the hidden cameras and the reality TV. I just want to know where the main ones are hidden so that I can give them my best angles." I give him a pleading look.

"What are you talking about? The only cameras that are in the shop are the security ones." He says back in a normal volume, jeez this kid has no idea how this stuff works.

I decide to call my mother and let her know the jig is up. When she answers, I explain to her how I've figured everything out. She quickly points out several reasons as to why I am an idiot and clearly not on a television show, the most compelling of which being that she would never expose the business this way and that at the prior family meeting, she adamantly refused to let our family become any part of the expose reality media craze. I still wasn't on board with her flat out denial until she broke into to an outraged rant asking why I was in a mechanics shop when she knows that the Volvo is in perfect condition and that – as described in our briefing files – all Volvo maintenance was to be first approved through her. I mumble a bunch of half-hearted apologies and promises and hang up the phone.

Realizing that I was most probably off a little bit on the whole reality show angle, I mosey on back to the bay where I have haphazardly abandoned my precious Shelby.

Jake and I work together for a few hours on her before I decide to call it a day. Informing Jake that I will probably stop by just to check in tomorrow, I go look to say goodbye to the kids. I find Seth over at the colouring table, pasting sparkles on all the fairies.

Lifting my hand to give him a high five, he responds with something he calls a jazz hand and yells out "See ya laters, sparkle stick." The gesture with which he accompanies the nick name is not appropriate for polite company, let alone a four year old.

Standing by the door, Leah has struck the same head-tucked, ponytail-playing, eye-blinking pose. "Goodbye . I'll makes sure that next time you come play I have sequins and sparkles and lots of pink things to craft with."

"It's a date, Princess Leah." I wink at her and she blushes. I've always had a way with kids, and they are cool to hang out with - much more honest than most adults that have crossed my path.

I open the door to find my trusty chariot right where I left it, waiting for me in the parking lot. Pulling out of the parking lot to head back toward Forks, I'm practically run off the road by a giant heap of antique red truck. I'm tempted to turn around and chase after the delinquent driver, but decide I've had enough interaction with crazy at the call center this last week, I don't need the over-exposure.

Tomorrow it's back to work and back to my Bella.

* * *

**A/N: Currently I've been on a broken Bella theme with my fic reading. My most favourites so far have been: **

**Wisp by Cris - **Edward wins more than he bargained for at what was supposed to be a friendly poker game.

**Nobody's Little Girl by HelloElla** - A billionaire couple searches for their long lost daughter. A lonely, troubled young man finds and gives refuge to a homeless girl with no name. Paths are crossed and hearts are given, but you can't keep what was never yours.

**Fuggiasco by kdc2239 **- Edward, homeless since age twelve is used to the gritty, hard life. Now twenty, his main goal is to make it in the world, and off the streets. What happens when a girl who seems to be broken beyond repair becomes his new shadow?

****links on profile****

**Do you have any broken Bella or Edward recs? **


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